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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24601972">The Glare of the Sun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Apocalypse, Cannibalism, Coming of Age, M/M, Mutants, Post-Apocalypse, Slow Burn, and he may fall in love with soonyoung, chan may be a mutant in this, i can’t write anything without making it centered around dk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:00:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24601972</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Coming of Age story that follows a group of friends not too far from the age. Enter Soonyoung.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Chan | Dino, Lee Seokmin | DK/Xu Ming Hao | The8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Glare of the Sun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seungkwan’s nasty curse of a cough is what has Seokmin jumping awake from his sleep. The latter mumbles curses under his breath at the sound of heavy footsteps against the creaky wood floor, pushing his ear as close to the sleeping bag material and the floor as he can. It’s been a month since Jeonghan died and he’s not sure if he’s gotten this leader thing perfect yet.</p><p>He decides that the time to sleep has passed after the hacking continues to echo throughout the house; Seokmin is sure it’s bronchitis but not sure enough to the point where he can actually help. Encouraging the younger that he should continue to drink water almost became a routine back a few months ago, even going to the point where Seokmin would give up his water for the day just so Seungkwan could have it.</p><p>But those times had passed. Materials were limited and sometimes he had to care for himself before he cared for others. That was something Jeonghan was better at; being selfless. He tried to avoid the disappointed gazes Seungkwan threw his way from time to time. He knows the younger boy will die one day. Because there’s no possible way they can get any help from anyone without being thrown back into confinement.</p><p> Chan can’t stop crying.</p><p>Seokmin passes the room where Minghao sits and pricks at his forearm with a broken off piece of metal wire that was once a part of a retainer; a pair of eyes boring into the abuse bleeding out onto his skin. He says he does it to see if he’s actually alive and not dreaming. Seungkwan thinks he’s attention seeking yet Chan disagrees. The latter’s countless attempts to get him to stop have never worked. Chan’s petrified that he’ll kill himself; he can’t lose anyone else after the way Jeonghan passed. </p><p>Seokmin feels bad. There’s nothing he can do about it except wrap up Minghao’s arm with bandages in his sleep without waking him up.</p><p> </p><p>Seungkwan has an attitude problem these days.</p><p>Chan has a habit of choking on his sobs throughout the night. He doesn’t sleep usually and when he does it’s due to extreme exhaustion. One night Seungkwan reached his limit. Pulling a pocket knife from his waistband and pressing it close to Chan’s neck, almost drawing blood. Seungkwan didn’t say anything while he was doing it Chan told Seokmin. He just stared at him like he wasn’t doing anything. </p><p>The only reason the youngest of the group is still here is because Seokmin heard his shrill scream for help. Chan laid in his arms that night. </p><p>“You practically carry him around like a fuckin’ baby,” Seungkwan spits the jab at Seokmin when the two walk into the kitchen at the same time. Seokmin feels himself practically cringe at the statement but swallows a response. He can’t add anymore fire to the diversion between the two. Because that’s what leaders are supposed to do.</p><p>Chan can’t sleep at night.</p><p>Whenever he closes his eyes he sees Jeonghan and refuses to shut them again. Insomnia wraps its arms around him as his cries begin to get quieter every night. Minghao can still hear him from the next room over.</p><p>Minghao doesn’t talk that much. Usually it’s only to Seokmin since the two are the same age. On the days where they go on food runs they’ll talk about life. Things they wish they could do or could have if the world wasn’t like this. Simple things, like going to the beach or getting ice cream. Seokmin’s favorite is Chocolate and Minghao makes a note.</p><p>This morning though, Seokmin decided to go out by himself. He likes to gather sticks to keep track of time. Lining them all up rows then separating them into groups. He keeps it to himself; hiding the arguably small sticks under a floorboard in a spare room. God forbid Seungkwan finds them and uses them as weapons. He can tell what each day was like just by what the stick looks like. Whether it was raining or uncomfortably hot. </p><p>Today’s stick felt hollow. Seokmin realized he had traveled back to close to the city when he noticed smoke up in the air.</p><p>+</p><p>A post-war stricken society is what they lived in before the end came. Roads and buildings were completely destroyed, the ones that survived were left homeless with practically nowhere to go. Nearly almost two years ago the oligarchy turned everyday life into one dictated by ironclad army soldiers. Strict rules being implemented, brawny men in red roaming the streets at all periods. </p><p>When the outbreak first began Seokmin was only a third year student working towards his degree in nursing. A difficult career path to go into yet it was his passion, and back then there was no greater joy than helping people. He was only walking down the hallway along with his classmates when he heard the sound of glass shattering. A woman further down had been banging her head against the glass window until it broke. Scattered screams bounced off the walls as people quickly fled the scene.</p><p>Seokmin remembers his classmate telling him to keep it moving, yet he took one last glance at the woman with the ghostly complexion now accompanied with blue blood . He also remembers the way she connected their eyes, her’s being wide and empty. That was the last time he attended school.</p><p>There had been an official statement from the oligarchy that everyone, excluding government workers, between the ages of 16 and 25 had to be put into containment centers while those over and under would be put down. It was nothing but cruel and inhumane to any sane person— images of crying adolescents occupied his thoughts during multiple sleepless nights.</p><p>Sadder for others than it was for Seokmin, people said goodbye to their families—— most being painful to watch. He recalls Chan telling him the dreadful story of how he got separated from his parents in the beginning. That reason being why they’re so close. The older boy could relate to his pain because he’s been through it.</p><p>Seokmin was orphaned at an early age and never really truly knew his parents but he did have Jeonghan. Even if they weren’t blood, Jeonghan was his family.</p><p>What they were unaware of though was that all of this was in preparation for dreaded war. They were taught defense and safety mechanisms in case a bomb dropped on the state and it was invaded. Deep down, Seokmin remembers the woman and knows all of this shit they were in currently, traces back to her.</p><p>+</p><p>In the beginning, they had lived in a cramped containment center just like everyone else did. How they got put together was fate in Seokmin’s opinion.</p><p>Seungkwan was different back then, nicer. He was a polite boy who just wanted everyone to lighten up. He told them he didn’t have any family to call his own; being out of foster care for all of his life. He was indifferent about everything that was happening because he felt like he had no meaning anyway. Despite his backstory, Seungkwan was happier back then. Seokmin misses that side of him.</p><p>Chan was freshly orphaned, suffering from trauma after watching his parents die right in front of him. He had been mute from the second he was thrown into their section. It was only  during the sixth month of their containment when he finally said something. No.</p><p>Minghao had a surprisingly similar story but they had all seen it happen first hand. The brown haired boy and another man with broad shoulders shackled in handcuffs approached their glass hut on the first day. Seokmin remembers the situation clearly; both of them had their heads down as they walked, it was almost as if they were communicating telepathically. Suddenly Minghao nodded and just right before they could make it, the taller of the two swung around and head butted the soldier in the face.</p><p>A brave attempt he must admit but of course it didn’t turn out well.The man’s mass was no competition to the soldier who practically towered over them.</p><p>Grasping him by the neck and slamming him down onto the hot pavement, the soldier swiftly took his gun from his waistband. The nameless man’s body twitched on the ground, a pool of blood submerging from beneath his head.</p><p>Minghao let out a yell that Seokmin will never be able to unhear. His limbs flailing pathetically in the shackled chains as he choked out a yell.</p><p>A gunshot rang and the soldier grabbed the deceased man’s foot to drag him away as if nothing happened.</p><p>Seokmin watched with frightened eyes as Minghao stepped into their new home with a blank expression.</p><p> </p><p>That’s how it began.</p><p> </p><p> +</p><p> </p><p>“Man, fuck this guy,” The eldest of the group hissed.</p><p>Jeonghan started coughing up blood at the nine month mark of their containment. The somewhat scrawny man hunched over the small toilet looking pale as ever, eyes shut tight. Seokmin starred in worry, rubbing soothing circles into the older’s back because there was nothing else he could do. He had no idea what it could be; cancer was definitely too broad of a term to use. So all he could assume is that he has some type of poisoning, it’s not like they provided doctors. If you died you were doing them a favor.</p><p>The latter cleaned up the blood splotches on the floor too make sure no one would notice. Jeonghan didn’t want to make anyone worry.</p><p>“No, not fuck this guy. Jeonghan,” Seokmin warned. It happened a month ago. A man in red had entered the center for the weekly check up and was using force. Maybe it was how the soldier shoved Chan onto the floor or how he lifted Minghao by his neck to check his body. Something had pushed him to the edge.</p><p>“You…” He jabbed a finger towards the man, “think you can just come in here and throw us around like we’re garbage? We’re not garbage asshole.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jeonghan.”</p><p> </p><p>In a split second, a gun was placed right in the middle of Jeonghan’s forehead. He smiled manically, looking up at the metal between his eyebrows.</p><p>Seokmin realized that maybe he wanted to die.</p><p>“What was that?” The soldier smiled back at him. A set of rotten teeth displayed as he looked down at the challenger.</p><p>“Shoot me. You won’t do it.”</p><p>“Jeonghan,” Seokmin started again but got cut off. He couldn’t have his best friend getting killed though. How could he leave him here?</p><p>“Oh? You think I won’t?”</p><p>The soldier naturally loaded his gun against Jeonghan’s forehead, the smile never wiping from his tanned face. The shorter went to respond with something witty again but instead hacked up blood all over the soldiers shoes.</p><p>The soldier shot him twice. </p><p>Seokmin wiped at his wet cheeks as they all watched their friend being dragged away like he was just a memory. Chan sobbed loudly beside Seokmin before the older clapped a hand over his mouth. The man in red had stupidly left the door to their house unlocked because of the blood on his shoes and having to drag a dead body. An ignorant mistake letting the four sneak off into the outside world they were originally taken from.</p><p>+</p><p>No one cares about Seungkwan anymore. Seokmin can try to lie all he wants but deep down he knows the hidden truth. He’s mean and selfish. And ever since he got the horrible cough he doesn’t contribute anything to the group.</p><p>“Oh boo-fuckin’-hoo, is crying all you know how to do?” Seungkwan hacks out a painful cough in Chan’s face. He seemed to stop caring about not spreading germs; the world was probably gonna end any day now and he knew it. The younger boy’s bloodshot eyes stared blankly off into space. </p><p> “Really? Answer me idiot. And look at me when I’m talking to you, fuck.” </p><p>Seokmin stops walking and looks over his shoulder to see what’s happening. The sun was burning his skin, cracked and red flesh stretched up his arms and legs. He somewhat wished they wouldn’t do this right now. It was nothing but dangerous for them to be out in the open like this. With guards roaming every street at every second there was no way they could easily maneuver their way through the city. But here Seungkwan was: being loud and coughing his guts out, as usual.</p><p>A yelp. </p><p>The agonizing sound busted through Seokmin’s ears so loudly he felt like it might have broken his ear drums. Chan held his cheek in one hand and crouched down on the ground, except he wasn’t crying this time. His facial expression stayed the same as it was. Seungkwan coughed obnoxiously while shaking his hand around, “I told you to answer me.” </p><p>Minghao watched the situation skeptically from the tree he was leaning on. It was almost as if he was interested to see how far this would go. How much time it would take for everyone to fall apart. His tired eyes moved to Seokmin’s statue-like figure. </p><p>Seungkwan wasn’t done. Seungkwan bent down and wrapped his skinny fingers around Chan’s neck, a maniacal smile stretching across his face. They were ice cold and Chan hated the way they felt on his skin. He was sick. It was easy to tell that Seungkwan had grown to like the feeling of power. The fact that he could so easily intimidate someone as pathetic as Chan lit a fire in him. Of course it wasn’t the best way to go about things but it’s not like he actually cared that much. Chan just misses when he threatened him without a smile.</p><p>“Next time, it won’t just be a slap.” He croaked out the words before removing his hand and walking forward; not forgetting to have a coughing fit on the way.</p><p>Seokmin felt like he was frozen despite how hot it was outside. The glare of the sun not even being able to melt the ice my humiliation he was feeling. He had sat there and watched the entire thing yet failed to do anything to stop it. Chan didn’t move from his position on the ground when Seokmin walked over to him, resting his hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. </p><p>“Come on, let’s get moving.”</p><p>Chan wanted to shove his hand off of his shoulder; maybe even yell in his face for making no attempt to help him. He was tired of feeling vulnerable and being pushed around but what could he do? Seokmin was all he had. He likes to think Minghao is there for him too. The two boys walked side by side as they journeyed along the back roads of the dull city. A comfortable silence between them. </p><p>Minghao followed behind watching the two closely.</p><p>+</p><p> It wasn’t always like this.</p><p>When the four had first escaped they got lucky. Making a quick getaway to the side streets where no one would be able to find them. It was hard to forget about what had happened a few moments earlier but they had to keep running. </p><p> Seokmin kept running. </p><p> Even if the others weren’t up to speed with him he ran as fast as he could. A race he wouldn’t be able to win no matter what. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes at the thought of his late best friend. He was angry. Outraged at how Jeonghan could easily leave him in a shit hole world like this. Sure he had the other boys but he had only met them a little less than a year ago. Jeonghan had been his brother.</p><p>He ran until he saw the abandoned broken down house they would live in for the next few months. That night Seokmin sat in an empty room crying, praying to god to make it all go away. The sickening feeling of this newly found isolation nipped away at parts of his consciousness. Deep down, he knew it would never go away. This was how it was now. A life without Jeonghan. A life without his best friend.</p><p>He cried as if only self pity could heal the dramatic wound of a broken heart, the broad boy wrapped his arms around himself. Memories of Jeonghan’s ode to life suffocating his thoughts in the form of tears. </p><p>Minghao softly leaned his head on the wall in the next room over. Wishing he had the strength to take the pain away from his friend. He reached out for the wire metal he accidentally stepped on earlier.</p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>“Find them, now.”</p><p>Soonyoung wasn’t exactly the tallest or the broadest. And he definitely wouldn’t be able to pick up anyone by their neck. Or even so much as think about touching the pistol on his waistband. To summarize it; he hated being an officer. Of course he could admit that it was way more beneficial than being in the containment class but it was obviously a flawed system. </p><p>His world was different than theirs after all. He attended late night parties where people clothed head to toe in red would fill empty abandoned mansions. The bright lights hung were practically blinding to any human eye while nearly radioactive alcohol was being ingested within a blink. These single souls didn’t care about tomorrow because they weren’t sure if there’d be one. As the days got warmer; parties got longer, bigger, crazier. </p><p>Drunk off his ass, one night Soonyoung carried himself outside to a balcony, nearly falling off once he reached the ledge. The champagne glass in one hand tipping over making the contents fall onto the dirt terrain that they called grass. He whispered a quick apology to no one in particular. </p><p>His cheek met the cool metal of the railing as he eyed the containment centers only across the way. It felt surreal for a moment. </p><p>Here he was on the third of many floors of a mansion looking out into the sea of oppression . A certain camp caught his eye. He didn’t exactly know what was going on but it didn’t look good. </p><p>Soonyoung had heard the gunshot that killed Jeonghan too. Or, at least he thinks he did; it sounded more like set off a bomb due to his intoxicated state. </p><p>Now here he was sitting in front of the head chief of relations being ordered to find the ones who had experienced the gunshot first hand. It seemed only impossible to him. If these boys were smart enough to escape without getting caught the first time why would they let up the second?</p><p>The man felt himself quiver at the way the hot atmosphere hit his face when he stepped outside. Letting out a sigh, he began his way to search the entire city.</p><p>+</p><p>“Don’t fuckin’ talk to me like that, do you hear me?” The eldest’s hand gripped the sides of Seungkwan’s jaw. He had never been like this before. He thought he could never be like this.</p><p>Seungkwan shoved Seokmin’s hand away, “No. I don’t think you understand we are fucking stuck here. Completely isolated; we can’t go anywhere without being afraid of dying don’t you get it? I can’t believe no one here cares about that.” </p><p>Minghao leaned against the wall.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter, anything is better than being in that containment place,” Chan says in a low voice, his eyes fixated on the floor. Seungkwan reaches for the blade he keeps sharpening. Chan doesn’t feel scared today.</p><p>+</p><p>“Hey,” Seokmin recognized the voice almost instantly but still turned around to meet Minghao’s curious expression. He returned the greeting before turning himself to face forward again. The skinnier boy waited a minute before pushing his weight off the doorframe and padding across the wood flooring. A slight rush of excitement went through the hand that held the camera behind his back.</p><p>Seokmin hadn’t been himself lately.</p><p>Minghao sat next to him, taking a glance at the older boy. He had maybe a million things to ask him but he couldn’t exactly find the right words.</p><p>Minghao has trouble speaking sometimes.</p><p>Seokmin frowned and Minghao knew he needed to act quickly. “Look, I want to show you something.” Placing the camera ever so gently in between the two of them, the small screen lit up with a picture of a landscape that looked similar to one outside of the house. Anxiety rooted itself deep in the pit of Minghao’s stomach when there was no immediate response. “Did you take this?” Seokmin had been too busy wondering how he’d found the time to take a picture like this and how well done it was. He realized that there were a lot of things he didn’t know about Minghao despite the fact that they’d been living together for a while.</p><p>Seokmin was endearing to say the least. Widening his eyes in shock while observing the photograph closely had Minghao feeling a little blue on the inside. He tore his eyes away from the dark haired boy before he noticed and back to the screen.</p><p>With shoulders pressed together and quiet laughs exchanged—Minghao felt happy for once.</p><p>But only a thin wall separated them from what could only be described as absolute madness.</p><p>+</p><p> Seungkwan is sick—he’s been sick for a while now. And it’s getting hard to ignore the constant vomiting he’s been doing or the way his voice has only transformed into a hoarse whisper. To be brief he’s angry. Angry at the universe for letting him be in this condition as the world was turning to absolute shit. He vaguely remembers the simpler times where he would read apocalyptic books for fun. Ironic how it became a reality.</p><p>Pushing his bedroom door open and stumbling down the stairs, his eyes landed on Chan. “Out of my way,” Seungkwan shoved the younger boy to the side. He despised the way he had grown to resist Chan. They were friends at the beginning, being close in age made them understand each other more. But ever since Seungkwan had gotten ill there’s been a lot of things he couldn’t do anymore.</p><p>He hates looking at Chan. How he’s able to go about his day easily because he’s not coughing his guts up. But it’s not fair for him to be mad at him. Because Chan is the baby. Chan misses Jeonghan. Chan can’t go to sleep at night. Frankly Seungkwan doesn’t give a fuck about what’s wrong with him.</p><p>As Seungkwan makes his way into the kitchen Chan follows behind him from a small distance, clutching the knife held behind his back. He’s not scared anymore. </p><p>+</p><p>It’s only when Seokmin doesn’t hear the distant noise of coughing when he realizes something’s up. Leaving Minghao with a quick comment of his departure, the leader was met with a putrid odor once stepping into the downstairs area. He stopped himself from walking any further, trying to stop himself from gagging.</p><p>Chan hunched over Seungkwan’s body with a knife in one hand and another filled with what could only be left to his imagination. Seokmin felt himself nearly stop breathing as he watched the inhumane actions of the once sweet boy in front of him. His sweet boy.</p><p> </p><p>“Chan.”</p><p> </p><p>The simple turn of a cheek. Painted with blue the younger boy stood before Seokmin, and a certain Minghao who was viewing the situation in secret. Blue blood was oozing out of the back of Chan’s arm.</p><p> </p><p>When eyes close.</p><p> </p><p>Seokmin grabbed the gun latched on his waistband, “Chan you need to go. You have to go right now. You need to go or I’ll have to kill you myself.”</p><p> </p><p>Where tears fall.</p><p> </p><p>Chan shut his eyes, tight. He stood in the same spot; opening his mouth to say something but closing it when he saw Seokmin coming closer to him. He didn’t know what was wrong. He didn’t know standing up for himself would make them hate him. He thought he would be doing the three of them a favor. </p><p>Seokmin let out a shrill cry, putting his pistol on Chan’s forehead, “Go.”</p><p> +</p><p>Seungkwan was dead now and there was nothing they could do to bring him back. Seokmin forced himself to go over to the boy’s corpse, trying to remember anything he had learned in medical school. It was hopeless. He knew Seungkwan would die but not this way. </p><p>His complexion looked as if someone drained the life out of him. Minghao viewer their dead friend from behind Seokmin. He was holding them back; they both knew it. But that wouldn’t stop the tears flowing down his friend’s cheeks. He put a hand on Seokmin’s shoulder, “Let’s bury the body.”</p><p>+</p><p>“Hello? Anyone there?”</p><p>A janky looking walkie-talkie lay a few feet away from the spot Chan stood in. The holes in his shoes allowed dirt and small rocks to pile in as he walked.</p><p>“Anyone? I might start singing,” </p><p>It was then that Chan realized that someone was talking through the intercom of the device.</p><p>“This one goes out to my good friend Josh. Wherever you are man; I miss you.”</p><p>The boy walked until he was staring at the walkie-talkie before him. Unrecognizable lyrics spilt out in the atmosphere; a nice voice Chan must admit. The man sang in a hushed tone almost like he was singing a lullaby to a child.</p><p>Chan could draw a picture in his head. How the person’s eyes may have been closed as he held the device close to his mouth, the grip tightening as each verse goes on.</p><p>“What song are you singing?” His voice came out airier than he thought it would.</p><p>Soonyoung jumped on the other line—abruptly stopping his singing, “Hello? Woah, I didn’t think anyone would actually find the other one. Who are you? Are you from another planet or something because that’d be really cool-“</p><p>“What song are you singing?” Chan cut the man’s rambling off. To be honest he didn’t really want to hear it. You’d think that after living in confinement with the same 4 people he’d be happy to have contact with someone else. But he wasn’t. Not at a time like this</p><p>Soonyoung blinked, “I—uh—forgot the name of it, my friend and I used to sing it.”</p><p>There was a period of silence between the two boys. Soonyoung didn’t exactly have an idea of what to say. The only people he ever talked to were those who worked for the government; everyone else was in containment. Or at least that’s what he thought.</p><p>“Hey, are you like okay? Disregard what I said before you must be from around the area. Did something happen?” Chan shook his head even though the other couldn’t see him.</p><p>“I’m fine,” he lowered his voice, “Don’t tell anyone, I really don’t want to go back there.” Soonyoung felt his heart burn at the desperation in the boy’s voice. He knew what he was supposed to do though. Taking a few glances around to make sure there was nobody nearby—he clapped his hand over the device and his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s your name?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i unpublished this and edited it randomly. it’s 12 am i’ve been writing this fic since 2018 and i’m still not impressed with it. unedited btw...still deciding if there will be a part 2. guess i’ll ask the audience</p></blockquote></div></div>
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